


after the world has fallen (where do we lie?)

by starpuff



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Angst, Apocalypse, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27822676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starpuff/pseuds/starpuff
Summary: “What’s an Eagle doing showing up in enemy territory? Did you want your head blown off instead?”“Former Eagle.” Tendou moves to roll up his sleeve, a mangled burn sitting where an eagle is supposed to fly, the kanji inked below too distorted to be legible anymore. You can’t breathe.“I’ve defected—I’ve come to join the Crows.”
Relationships: Tendou Satori/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	after the world has fallen (where do we lie?)

You meet on a day where the sky burns yellow.

It isn’t the rich gold of dawn, nor is it any further from the washes of orange, reds, and pinks of dusk so fondly remembered from the past. Sulfur-colored clouds hang above you, an overcast so bleak you feel it in every movement, every breath, where the taste of ash still lingers on the tongue.

You stifle a cough, shielding your eyes as a dust cloud whirls past, carrying bits of torn newspaper and scraps of abandoned items from before the Fall. Tightening the cloth mask around your mouth, you adjust the straps of your backpack, faltering for just a moment. Everything stills.

You count the seconds in your head, _one, two…_

Something shifts behind you, and your hand shoots to the gun holstered at your side, its barrel pointed and ready to shoot at the face of your enemy in an instant. _Three_.

Only, you find yourself with a gun pointed at you as well. The man in front of you grins, his safety slowly clicking off. “And who might you be?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

He hums, relaxed. “My answer depends on who _you_ are, actually, and I’m guessing it’s the same for you. Looks like we’re at an impasse.”

Your grip tightens. You don’t know if he has people hiding in the shadows, how many guns are _actually_ pointed at you at this moment. There could be snipers watching from the rooftops, backup hiding behind tall pieces of rubble, comrades he could call using a stealthily hidden comm in his ear.

Just finished with a covert mission, you’re exhausted and alone, and your allies are far and unaware. There isn’t another choice left. It’s better than dying in silence.

“You’ve just entered Crow territory,” you say, your voice as confident as you can make it. Distantly, you try to calculate how long it would take for help to arrive if your emergency flare was fired. “What business do you have with us?”

The man raises a brow, tilting his head. “And if I don’t tell you? It’s top secret information I hold, you know.”

You take a step closer, the gun still trained on his head. “You know exactly what will happen. Either you tell me now or you tell us later in interrogation—I can’t guarantee you’ll go unharmed if you choose the latter.”

He grins again. “Fierce words for a girl all on her own.” 

You can’t tell if the words are meant to be provocative or genuine, but you can’t seem to shake off the tension roiling in your skin. He raises his hands slowly, his gun returned neatly into his holster.

“I’d prefer to _not_ have my kneecaps blown out, at least not today. I’m Tendou Satori.”

Your eyes narrow, a faint memory of a name on a folder flashing through your mind. It’s nothing more than a blur, the details lost in a flurry of other profiles that seemed more important at the time. But there is one thing that you remember, the words bolded on top of the page. 

“What’s an Eagle doing showing up in enemy territory? Did you want your head blown off instead?”

“ _Former_ Eagle.”

Your gun barrel falters. _What?_

Tendou moves to roll up his sleeve, a mangled burn sitting where an eagle is supposed to fly, the kanji inked below too distorted to be legible anymore. You can’t breathe. 

“I’ve defected—I’ve come to join the Crows.”

* * *

“I don’t know, Suga.”

Sugawara pours you a cup of warm tea, the last packet brewed before restock in two days. “What’s there to not know?”

“The _Eagle!_ ” you stress, exasperated. “Should we even be letting him in? It might be a trick.”

“Well, you tell me. You’re the one that found him,” he jokes, pulling out a chair across the table.

You don’t even know how he can joke about this. Thoughts keep swirling in your mind, how you’ve just made a mistake, how this single action could result in everything going very, _very_ wrong.

Sugawara watches you mull over cooling tea, inquisitive. After what seems like your thousandth sigh, he speaks again. “How did your recon mission go? Any new information on the Iron Wall?”

Pursing your lips, you take a sip. “It’s not much, but I did manage to find out some things about their leadership change. I’ll tell the details at the meeting tomorrow, once I’ve gotten my report together.”

He nods, pouring himself his own cup. “About the Eagle,” he says, after a long silence. “He’s only just arrived yesterday. He may not have given us a reason to trust him, but it’s not like he’s given us a reason to _doubt_ him either. Be on your guard, but get to know him before you make your judgement. You know as well as I do that we need all the help we can get.”

* * *

A steady _tap, tap, tap_ , of your fingers against the table sounds in the room. Hinata leans in closer, eyes bright and curious. “So, what are we going to do?”

Daichi scans the map on the table, the markers planted where the enemy lies. Freshly promoted to general, Sawamura Daichi handles responsibilities like steel-plated gold, every decision made conscious of the soft underbelly of inexperience that lies within. He calculates each position with intense thought, his brows furrowing the longer he looks at the map; even to you, fine lines on the map seem to blur together, like they were looking at land that wasn’t separated by name and claim alone. You scoff internally at the thought. 

_Wouldn’t that be nice_.

They’ve been in this meeting for hours too long, nothing but empty words being thrown across the table. 

“Shiratorizawa just merged with the last independents between our territories,” Sugawara mulls, replacing the only blue markers left on the table with purple. “It’ll be a bloodbath if we don’t plan carefully.”

_It’ll be a bloodbath regardless_ , you want to say, but you keep your mouth shut, lips twisting into a frown. You take a peek at Tendou across from you, only to quickly divert your eyes when he glances up to catch your gaze.

"Anything you could tell us?" Daichi asks, pinning Tendou down with his stare. Your finger stills. 

The tension in the room thickens, tamped down hostility ready to be unleashed at even a hint of a misstep. It’s been less than a month since you’d brought him back to base, and with the growing disputes with enemies from all sides of your borders, easy hospitality isn’t something you can afford. The marring of his Shiratorizawa brand is the only thing allowing him an inkling of trust, the only thing letting him step foot inside this room.

Karasuno may be wary, but most of all, you’re desperate.

Tendou smiles with ease as he leans back in his chair. “Of course, General. It’s why I’m here, after all.”

Reaching beside him, he pulls out a manila folder, the same one you had given him, noticeably thicker than it had been a week prior. It slides across the table, Daichi catching the folder mid-glide with ease.

“Half the information on here is wrong,” Tendou begins, matter-of-fact. “Not that there’s much on there to begin with—I’ve never seen an entire profiling with so little information in my life, not even when I was with the Eagles.”

Daichi flips to the first page, revealing a profile with a picture of a green-haired man attached. His eyes are stern, lips pressed into a frown. A flash of a forlorn shadow crosses Tendou’s face as he looks at the photo, too quick to be seen by anyone but you.

_Oh_.

“Let’s start with Ushiwaka, shall we?”

The briefing continues, Tendou going through each high-ranking member and revealing their information, fixing any red herrings that were collected through recon. According to him, Ushijima’s strengths aren’t only limited to close combat; this correction only serves to worsen the mood of the room. 

Daichi is going to have a field day lecturing Intelligence for falling for enemy tricks, but you’re sure Kiyoko will manage to reason with him before half the department starts hiding in bathroom stalls and barracks to escape his wrath. You silently set aside time in the day to go looking for Yachi after the inevitable scolding, who normally bolts first and is found last.

Many corrections later, Daichi looks at the last page in the folder before snapping it shut. “Thank you, you’ve been a great help to us.”

Tendou hums, cheshire’s grin curving his lips. “I know!”

Daichi nods once more, collecting the files and making his way to leave. “Oh,” he remembers, stopping for a moment. He turns to look at you, and you hear what you’ve been dreading for the past hour. “Collect the members of Intelligence and meet back here in ten. Meeting dismissed.”

You nod stiffly, muttering a quiet "Yes, General.” Holding your breath, you wait as everyone files out the room one by one, pitying looks sent your way. 

After what seems like forever, the door slides shut on the last person. You groan into your hands, palms pressed tight against your eyes to fight a growing migraine. Expectancy does not negate dread, apparently.

A whistle. "Damn, was that my fault?"

You jump, only to slump when you see Tendou, still watching from his seat. "I thought you left," you say wryly. His amused stare goes wholly unappreciated.

"Ah, have you discovered my secret talent then? Blending into the shadows, _oooohhh."_ He wiggles his fingers at you, like casting a spell. You stare at him, unamused.

"One day," Tendou sighs. "One day."

Rolling your eyes, you move to stand, chair scraping against the floor. He watches you with the same relaxed expression he wears every day on his face, and you hesitate slightly. You imagine running the words over your tongue, trying to figure out the best way to say them. _Maybe I don't need to_ —

"Something on your mind?"

_Oh, to hell with it._

"You know you can always talk to me, right?"

Tendou raises a brow, smiling. "I am right now, did you forget?"

" _No,_ I mean—" You huff sharply. "I know it must be hard to switch sides. All of a sudden you're fighting against your former friends, and it's not like we've all made the transition _easier_ than it could have been, so if you ever want to talk about," you gesture wildly, " _things_ , just know that I'm always willing to listen."

A beat passes, then two. _Nice going_.

"Okay, that's all I wanted to say." The words blur together in a flurry. "I'm gonna go now. Bye."

"Hey wait!" Tendou says, shooting out of his seat. metal on metal scrapes against the floor, stopping you in your tracks. He looks just as surprised by his outburst as you are. "Thank you, really. I'll remember that."

You nod slowly, a relieved smile lighting your features. "Of course, who would I even be if I let someone I brought in deal with all their demons alone?"

* * *

"I'm blaming you."

Tendou gasps, scandalized. " _Me?_ What did _I_ do?"

“Don't act like you don't know!" You point a finger at him, then to the bags of flour and sugar sitting on the counter. “ _You’re_ the one that suggested baking Daichi a cake for his birthday. We could have just gotten him a _plant_ or something.”

“The general deserves the very best from us, don’t you know?”

You give him an exasperated look. “Do you even know how to bake a cake?”

His hand flies to his chest, offended. “Of course I do! Who do you even think I am?”

“Tendou Satori, the source of my daily headaches.”

He grabs the bag of flour, opening the top and pointing it towards you threateningly. “Don’t forget the power I hold in my hands.”

Truthfully, you’re blaming Sugawara for dragging you into this mess. It would have been fine if Tendou had embarked on this challenge alone—it would have been amusing, even. But Sugawara insisted on someone helping him out for such a ‘big project,’ that it needed to be a ‘team effort.’ You would have called bullshit on that, but he’d ushered you into the kitchen and locked you inside before you had a chance to protest.

_“It’ll be fun,”_ he had said, winking at you. _“Who knows, this could be your chance! I see how you look at each other_ — _you’ll thank me for this later. You’re welcome in advance.”_

And now here you were, many incorrigible noises later, looking cluelessly at measuring cups. You still don’t know what Sugawara means.

Clueless to your predicament, Tendou is already done with the dry mixture, moving on to cracking the eggs. He slides a cutting board over to you, along with a bar of chocolate. You’re not even sure where these came from, considering the massive price of luxury goods like this, however little of it there is left, but you’ve learned not to question Tanaka and Noya’s methods of attaining certain... _items._ What resulted in that curiosity is certainly a memory you won’t ever forget.

“Chop,” Tendou prompts, handing you a knife. “It’ll make it easier for me to melt it down after I’m done with the batter.”

You scrunch your brow, frowning. Still, you do as he says. “What type of cake are we making anyway? I thought it was just going to be a sponge cake.”

He _tsks_ at you, shaking his head. “Such a simple thing for the birthday of the one and only general? First a plant, now the minimal effort, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were doing this,” he looks around suspiciously, “ _on purpose_.”

All he gets is another roll of the eyes, as well as a chocolate-shaving covered knife pointed at him. “Don’t forget the power I hold in my hands.”

Tendou holds up his hands in surrender.

The tasks are completed in silence, a quiet _tap tap_ of the knife against the cutting board and the metal of his whisk hitting the glass bowl sounding in tandem with one another. You’re the first to speak again, chocolate fully chopped and put into an empty bowl. “Now what?”

Tendou, having just poured the batter into circular pans, gets out a pot and pours in heavy cream. “Now,” he says, turning on the heat, “we make a ganache.”

You take a seat across the counter, watching him mix the heated cream into the bowl of chocolate, letting it melt into one another. He moves with ease, humming as he does so. “I wanted to be a chocolatier, you know,” he explains, noticing your stare. “Move to Paris, get a degree, study at one of those fancy five-star Michelin restaurants, wear one of those cool tall hats. Maybe even open up a shop of my own.” 

Tendou laughs at the memory, his shoulders lighter, eyes lacking the shadow that permeates through the mask of his smiles. _He looks happy,_ you realize. _The first time he’s ever looked truly happy._

Your heart aches with a tenderness that's nearly palpable, thinking of the boy who remembers a past where the future was bright, who looks at pictures of old comrades and friends with nostalgia for a time that won’t return.

“Here,” Tendou calls, gesturing for you to come over once the frosting has fully formed. “Have a taste.”

You hop down your stool, noticing something as you get closer and closer to him. “Tendou, you have something there,” you say, motioning to your cheek.

“Hm?” His thumb rubs at his cheek.

“Ah, no, the other side. A little down—no, now a little up—down again—here let me just—”

Before you can think again, you lean in, swiping away the frosting with a finger and placing it in your mouth. Your eyes widen as sweetness bursts in your mouth “It’s good!” you exclaim, and then you realize.

Tendou stares at you, his face closer than you remember it. You feel his breathing, his chest rising and falling as his gaze darts from your eyes to your lips and back again.

You let out a soft exhale. “ _Oh._ ”

A hand comes up to cup your cheek, his body now pressed against yours. “Can I?” he asks, his other hand coming to rest on the small of your back. _Should I?_

Palms rest on his chest, your fingers curling as you try to think. You try to imagine the consequences of this, how this would just be another distraction from your job as a Crow, how this would just be another dangerous thing added to the risks you signed up for, how this is just pure impulsivity acted on emotion.

You scan his face, his eyes, his lips. The tender way his thumb rests on the side of your face. The heat of his body on yours. You’ve thought through the potential downfalls of saying yes, how everything could come down crashing and burning one way or the other. 

You find that in this moment, inches away from him, you can’t bring yourself to care. 

With a small nod, you close the distance, lips meeting with a taste sweet as chocolate on your tongue.

_Consequences be damned,_ you repeat in your head as the kiss turns heated, small gasps of air where you can fit them, hands moving from his chest to his hair as your fingers thread through his locks, frosting long forgotten on the counter.

_Consequences be damned._

* * *

You jolt awake, a siren wailing in the distance as it covers the sky in a film of muted red. The clouds are dense like they usually are—you haven’t seen a single star for years, and you wonder if it’s a sign that even the celestials and heavenly bodies have turned away from the horror that mankind has become.

“It’s from Shiratorizawa,” the man beside you says, his back facing you as he looks outside the window. “Reports said they were in a dispute with the Blue Castle recently, a rebel faction left over from their forcible mergence.”

His voice takes on a guarded edge when he talks of his former syndicate, either plastering on his playfully teasing masks in professional endeavors or preventing the topic from being explored too deep whenever he’s alone with you. There must be something underneath, regret for not staying with his friends until the end, bonds broken to follow what he believes is right, you just know it.

Sheets rustle as you sit up, scooting closer to him. A finger comes up to touch his back, tracing letters onto his bare skin. 

_Y-o-u o-k-a-y?_

True to his habits, he takes the hand brushing his skin and traces his own shapes into your palm.

_:)_

You wish he’d be more open with you about that part of his past, especially after you’ve shared everything with him, but you know Tendou would tell you everything in his own time. Patience and waiting is a part of love, after all. Still, you touch your lips to his fingertips whispering to him. “Satori, you know you can tell me anything right?”

It’s a soft reminder, a plea.

The waxiness of the burn on his forearm shines in the moonlight. The motto reads _Ir_ — _s_ — _t_ — _le F_ — _rce,_ an eagle with ruined wings _._ Tendou turns, half his face covered in shadows. “I know.”

* * *

The world is in flames.

Everything is covered in soot, dirt, and _blood_. You blink away the sting of smoke in your eyes, the smog suffocating your airways. Orange flickers in your peripherals lighting the dark, explosions heard from miles away as yet another sector gets bombed. Alarms blare where they are not smashed to pieces, wailing red and bright and cruel.

_“Go!_ _”_ Daichi shouts, firing only a few blind rounds before he’s forced back behind the wall. “I’ll cover for you!”

Your legs tremble as you stand from your previous crouch, fumbling for the extra magazine an enemy had dropped moments before. “General,” you plead. “There has to be another way. I’ll stay and fight with you, _please_ — _”_

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “You’ll just die with me.” Daichi places a hand on your shoulder, determination in his eyes. “Find the others, whoever is left. Suga, Hinata, Tendou, get whoever you can find and escape.”

“ _Daichi_ — _”_

“This is my last order as General,” he says, his back facing you. “Live.”

With shaky breaths and a resolute nod, you run. Through the destroyed corridors of what remains of the Karasuno base, you sprint as far as your feet can take you, lungs burning, contained sobs threatening to burst at any moment.

You scour for any sign of life with each step taken, a head of orange peeping out from behind rubble, a single whisper of Sugawara’s soothing tones as he tends to the wounded. By the time you enter the area where the entrance used to be, you’re gasping for air, defeat sending your knees buckling to the ground. You’ve searched everywhere they could be, the training grounds, the underground bunkers, anywhere else that hadn’t been demolished or rendered inaccessible by the explosion.

There’s still leftover ringing in your ears, the buzz in your mind getting louder the longer you stay in this place. You inhale once, twice—

The safety of a gun clicks from behind you. A hand around your gun as well, you turn slowly. You stop breathing.

Behind the barrel pointed at you is Tendou, finger on the trigger, an easy smile on his face. The eagle pin attached to his jacket gleams in the firelight.

" _No."_

It's not true, it can't be. You don't want it to be. You're hoping he'll lower his gun, playing this entire thing off as some sick, badly-timed joke, help you up and even continue searching for survivors. The world has never done what you'd wished for.

"I'm afraid so."

Hurt can’t even begin to explain the way your heart breaks, the way it splinters and cracks like glass. A million thoughts rush through you, the urge to scream and shout and shoot the damn bullet straight through his traitorous skull, but you can only whisper one thing. “Was it all a lie?”

_Your dreams to be a chocolatier, the way your hands fidgeted when you thought a joke of yours went too far and you tried to apologize, the words and shapes you traced into my skin, did it mean nothing to you?_

“Not all of it,” Tendou says, his smile forlorn. You wonder if you’ll be yet another bird burned out of his skin. “I liked you the most.”

Karasuno were crows. They were a group of crows, a murder, a _murder_ , a _massacre_ , he betrayed and _massacred_ them all. You remember the stories he told, his jokes, his laugh, his _smile_ —you realize that they’re nothing but distorted ink on mutilated flesh.

“I didn’t want it to end this way.”

You laugh, bitter, too tired for any tears left. Your barrel comes up to meet him, unwavering. The betrayal you feel is nothing compared to rage. “Neither did I.”

A gunshot resounds. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @star-puff


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